


Once More, But Different

by KrisseyCrystal (IceCreAMS)



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Kink Exploration, Kissing, Lots of kissing, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Riding, Strap-Ons, Switching, Vaginal Sex, and lots of laughing and giggling too, and you love to see it, but that's just because they love each other and are trying new things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28642350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCreAMS/pseuds/KrisseyCrystal
Summary: Alisha wants to pleasure Rose better than she ever has before; she wants to leave the usually talkative assassin speechless.Rose may have an idea as to how.
Relationships: Alisha Diphda/Rose
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	Once More, But Different

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilentShanin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentShanin/gifts).



The mattress dips under Alisha’s hands and knees, forming tiny depressions around Rose. Breathlessly, Rose grins up in the dark. Sweat mats her bangs against her brow in a messy array. Her blue eyes shine under the moonlight filtering in through the balcony window. When Alisha is finally straddling her, she lowers herself for a pleasant, deep, and languid kiss.

They lie together in the quiet afterward, listening to the silence. The clock ticks the midnight hour by, and all they do is breathe and curl together.

Alisha can feel the tips of Rose’s fingers drift up and down her bare spine. At first, that ghost of a touch makes her shiver, but the longer, and more repetitive the motion becomes, the more Alisha finds herself soothed and lulled to a near-sleepful state.

Almost.

“Thinkin’ pretty loudly there, Lisha,” Rose hums. She turns and presses a kiss to the crown of Alisha’s head. “What’s on your mind?”

Alisha hums back low and lazy. Unhurried. “I was just thinking.”

A snort. “Yeah. That was kinda my point.”

“No, I mean…” After a short pause, Alisha lifts herself upright, peering down at Rose. Rose’s hand falls away and back to the mattress. She raises an eyebrow. 

Alisha searches her face for a long time. “Can we talk intercourse?”

Another mashed-nose snort—this time, hidden behind Rose’s hand. “I mean, we just had said ‘intercourse,’ but yeah. Sure.”

“I just think…I just think I must be failing you somehow.”

_“What?”_

Rose sits up so fast, one of the pillows bunches uncomfortably behind her at the head of the bed. “Wait. Where is this coming from? Lisha, you’re not ‘failing’ me or anything like that. What the hell would ever give you that idea?”

Ah. Perhaps her fears are unfounded, then.

Still, Alisha finds her chest tightening. She has a hard time meeting Rose’s eyes as she speaks, choosing instead to gaze at the curve of Rose’s knee and the way the skin on it is pink and ashy. Imperfect, but Rose. So Rose. “You seem like you’re holding back. Like…” Alisha thinks about it for a moment. Her mouth pinches. “…like, for example, whenever _I’m_ on the, um, receiving end, you know I can’t focus on anything else but…well… _you,_ Rose.” 

Rose smiles wide and cat-like.

Alisha waves a hand. “But whenever _you’re_ on the receiving end, you’re able to still be coherent. Sometimes, we can manage to even have full conversations back and forth. Sometimes, you joke around.”

“I mean, sex doesn’t have to be _all_ serious, Lisha.”

“And I’m not saying it has to be.” Alisha shakes her head. “But it’s just…I don’t feel like I make you feel half as good as you make me feel, and—” Alisha’s voice corks high in her throat. She struggles with words for a second too long, lets sit a moment that is too full of vulnerability, but thankfully, Rose must be able to see whatever she is struggling to say in her eyes.

Immediately, she pulls Alisha to her and wraps an arm around the small of her back. She tucks Alisha’s head into her neck. 

Alisha is resigned to admit: the feeling of Rose’s fingers carding through her hair is soothing.

“Lisha, I love you, but you _really_ are overthinking this. You're not ‘disservicing’ me or whatever it is that you’re telling yourself in that head of yours. If you’re somehow convincing yourself that you are providing me with ‘less than’ what I want, forget it. I _love_ having sex with you, Lisha. I’m always satisfied because it’s _you.”_

Alisha sighs.

Rose squeezes her shoulders. “I mean it.”

“Maybe.” Alisha presses her lips together. 

Once more, like a repeat of before, Rose’s fingers skim up and down Alisha’s spine. The touch is calming, skimming across the little knobs of her vertebrae and all the bumps and ridges that span up to her shoulder blades. After a moment, Rose sighs. “I mean, at the end of the day, you also have to cut yourself some slack, Lisha.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not exactly new to this whole sex thing.” Rose leans back so she can meet Alisha’s eyes. “Let’s be honest: I have a _lot_ more experience than you do.”

Alisha smiles ruefully. Fondly. “As you have proven to me time and time again.” She pauses and sighs, and turns her head so she can rest her cheek against Rose’s shoulder. “But what about you? I wish there was a way I could get you to more truly and completely… ‘let go.’ More than usual.”

Rose pops her lips and hums in thought. “Well,” she says and the word hangs suspended between them for a long, long second. Finally, she adds: “Maybe there is.”

Alisha sits up again. “Do you have an idea?”

“Maybe.” Rose echoes. She looks to Alisha and grins, hooking her arm around Alisha’s waist. Their lips meet soundly for a quick, happy peck. “Something for us to try next time if you’re up for it.”

“If it means giving you a better time?” Alisha smiles and leans in to kiss Rose harder this time. Deeper. “Then I’m _very_ much up for it.”

* * *

Rose’s mysterious “idea” isn’t ready the next day or the day after that. She laughs when Alisha asks at first, making the inevitable teasing comment about how “insatiable” the princess is—which Alisha quickly corrects. It’s not that she’s _insatiable,_ she answers; it’s just that she’s very much eager to give Rose the best night of her life. To which, Rose flushes and looks away and scratches her cheek and suddenly loses her courage as she admits she’s looking forward to that, too, but she still needs more time to get “it” ready.

Whatever “it” is.

So Alisha sighs and supposes it’s not the end of the world to have to wait on her girlfriend so they can have mind-blowing sex, especially when Rose has been so patient with her inexperience all this time. When she thinks about it like that, of course she can wait. Waiting is the least Alisha can do. 

Then, at last, a week later, Rose finally slips her a message that she’s ready. 

And Alisha is hardly able to sit still through her council meetings the rest of the day.

* * *

“Hey, Lisha. Are you still… _up_ for it?” 

“Oh, Rose. That’s terrible.”

Rose tilts her head back and bursts out laughing. She jangles the strap-on obscenely for a second time, letting it dance on purpose—for some reason—and Alisha crosses her arms. She presses a hand to her mouth, trying not to flush awkwardly at the un-colored thing. There must be something on her face that is tight and hesitant because, with one final chuckle and silly jiggle of the fake dick, Rose stops playing with it.

“We don’t have to use this thing if you don’t want to, you know. I understand if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No…” Alisha shakes her head and steps forward. She holds out her hand. Gently, Rose drops the strap-on and its belt over her fingers. Alisha swallows and after a moment, shakes her head a second time. “No. You brought it for a reason. I assume that means you want to use it. Besides, I did ask last time for ideas on how to pleasure you better, remember?”

“W-well, yeah, but…” 

When Rose doesn’t say anything more, Alisha lifts her eyes to find Rose staring. She raises an eyebrow. “What?” 

“Lisha, be honest with me: have you seen anything like this before?”

“I…” Alisha’s face floods with heat. She debates denying the question, debates trying to play off knowing more than she does—but honesty and open communication has always proven better than lies, both inside and outside of the bedroom. They figured that out early on in their relationship. 

Slowly, Alisha shakes her head. 

Perhaps it’s an odd time to remember the days of her youth, to remember growing up training among the knights. Alisha remembers Maltran constantly having to redirect her focus because the other young women in her training cohort were always so riveting. She remembers the way the sweat dripped down the muscles of their arms, and the way their thighs would so beautifully flex during drill sets. She remembers how all those same girls who made such butterflies stir in Alisha’s stomach used to ogle at the men in their troop. 

_“Hey, your highness, what do you think of Alan?”_

_“Look at Cyrus! Isn’t he cute?”_

But Alisha never had an answer. _“Yes, that certainly is a male all right,”_ she would say and continue on with her training because she couldn’t understand what the draw was. She used to blame her discomfort on her dread of an eventual arranged marriage, of a situation she knew was looming over her head as princess. She knew one day she’d have to marry and bear a child for the sake of giving Hyland an heir. 

She hated it.

Still does.

But things are different. Things have changed; the world has changed, as has Alisha and Rose, and now, somehow, miraculously, they have each other. And admittedly, _because_ she has Rose, Alisha thought she’d be able to leave all those fears and discomfort and everything that Alisha never cared for about men behind her. 

She reaches a finger up to touch the toy’s phallic end but shies away at the last second before she can make contact. “If I’m to be honest, I didn’t even know stuff like this was made.”

Rose gives her a small smile. She shrugs. “Yeah, well…they are. Go figure.”

“Is penetration like this really so desirable?”

Rose’s cheeks pinken. She scratches at her cheek and averts her eyes. “W-well, I mean, these things _do_ sell, so…yeah? I mean, as long as we’re both being completely honest here, I’ll admit: if there’s one thing that’s pretty high on _my_ personal kink-list, it’s penetration.” 

“Really.”

Alisha doesn’t bend her voice in question. She stares at the strap-on for a moment longer and frowns. “Is it…” A nervous, antsy energy stirs up in her gut: a question she’s trying to figure out how to put into words. It’s on the tip of her tongue, but is it a concern worth voicing? “…do you feel like you need this or want this because I’m…lacking something as a woman…?”

Rose stares and shakes her head. “What? No!” She steps forward and takes Alisha’s arms in both of her hands. “Not at all. It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what _is_ it like?”

Rose laughs. Her face turns very red. “Well, I guess I could _show_ you what it’s like, but somehow, I don’t think that’s what you’re asking.” She gentles and tilts her head to the side. The redness all across her cheeks seems stuck on her face like taffy. “Listen, even _with_ this strap-on, having sex with you is different and will be different than it is with a man—because trust me, I’ve been there. With all ends of the gender spectrum and beyond.”

Alisha does know. They’ve talked at length before about Rose’s history and the breadth of her experience.

“This toy doesn’t change the fact I’m having sex with _you_ ,” Rose stresses. “It just offers a different experience.”

“Different than…my fingers.”

“Yeah. Essentially.” 

Alisha looks up at Rose and watches her face and the nervous way that Rose watches her. After a moment, she nods. Her mouth sets into a firm line. “All right, then. Let’s try it.”

She does not miss the way Rose’s face lights up. 

She does not miss the quick, excited breath Rose takes before she grabs at her arms again. “Really? You mean it? You’re fine with it?”

“Yes.” If anything, seeing Rose so hopeful and thrilled makes Alisha excited, too. A little bit, anyway. “Yes. If this is what you want, if this really will increase your pleasure, then I’m willing to give it a shot.”

“‘Increase your pleasure,’” Rose echoes with a laugh. “I love you, Lisha.”

When Rose kisses her, Alisha thinks she can actually taste that excitement on her tongue: hot and sparking, light lightning in her mouth—but bubbly, too. A bit like guzzled champagne. 

* * *

The actual straps of the strap-on are a puzzle that Rose talks her through how to put on. She offers to tie the lacing in the back—although Alisha has a hunch that’s just to get her fingertips on the ever-so-sensitive skin at the base of Alisha’s spine, just above her ass, because she knows what that does to the princess—and then Rose helps tighten the buckles at her waist, too, so it fits snuggly around Alisha’s hips. 

When at last Rose steps back, Alisha stares at the new length protruding from her front, and flushes up to the tips of her ears. “I feel kind of silly.”

Rose laughs. “Yeah. I guess it looks kind of strange, doesn’t it?”

“Out of the context of sex, yes, this seems…” Alisha can’t understand the appeal. Surely this isn’t _sexy_ to have the thing arching in front of her like that. Surely, it must look ridiculous. If she were to roll her weight forward from her heels to her toes, would it bounce? By the seraphim, following that line of thinking is kind of childish, anyway, isn’t it? It’s immature.

So why does she want to tentatively do that?

Rose laughs hard at her anyway, wrapping her arms around her middle and bowing. Alisha would be frustrated at her, if only she didn’t like the way Rose’s breasts bounced so much over her crossed arms.

“Are you laughing at me?” she asks the obvious.

After a few more snickers and snorts, Rose wipes away imaginary tears and nods. “Maybe just a little. You have no idea how cute you are.”

_“Cute?”_ Alisha fails to see at all how wearing this—this—what did Rose call it? A dildo?—how wearing this dildo and staring at it and feeling awkward and uncertain could at all, in any way, be considered cute. 

But Rose shrugs and in that one casual move, dispels Alisha’s tangled feelings. “I don’t know, Lisha. I just think sometimes you underestimate how much I love you,” she says. 

Alisha goes breathless. “Oh.”

“Watching you figure this out for the first time...you always wear your heart right up here, you know?” Rose gestures to her own face. “So I can always tell when you’re thinking and what you’re thinking and how deeply you’re thinking about things—which is like, all the time. You think so deeply about everything, Lisha.” 

“Should I not?”

Rose shakes her head and chuckles. It’s Alisha’s favorite sound. “Not my point.”

She sits down on the edge of the mattress and holds out her arms. Wordlessly, Alisha steps between her knees, folding Rose’s hands in her own. Rose squeezes her hands and smiles up at her. “Besides, you have no idea how much I appreciate that you’re willing to try this for me. Seriously. It means a lot.”

Alisha feels like she might melt. She smiles softly back. “Yes, well…” She bends to deliver a gentle kiss to the top of Rose’s head—to the crown of her red, red hair. “You underestimate how much I love you, too, I think.”

Rose tilts her head up with a bright, lovely smile—perfectly incandescent—and Alisha answers her unasked question with another kiss: this one against Rose’s lips. 

One kiss turns into two. Two turns into three.

Then, what was once sweet and mild turns hot and hungry. Needy. Rose whimpers against Alisha’s lips and Alisha, in turn, thinks she would like her girlfriend on the bed now, please and thank you very much. With greedy hands that are eager to keep Rose close so their lips part as little as possible, she guides Rose further up the mattress until she’s against the pillows. 

When Alisha raises an eyebrow at the pillow Rose shoves under her hips, she adds, “It’ll help.”

Rose’s way of taking hold of the back of Alisha’s neck again and drawing her into their thousandth kiss of the night also probably means, _No further questions. I’d like you to fuck me now. Please._

Alisha, by way of achingly slowing their kiss, responds, _I know. Soon._

There are just _so_ many more things Alisha wants to do to Rose other than solely fuck.

Her fingers drift. One hand takes hold of Rose’s breast. She squeezes and flicks the bud with her thumb. Immediately, Rose’s breath hitches. Pleased, Alisha moves her mouth down the column of Rose’s throat. She can feel Rose’s breath begin to grow unsteady in the way her chest rises and falls. The way her head tilts back, open-mouthed. 

Unfortunately, the dildo is still between them. Obtrusive. Trying to get closer and intimate while it’s in the way has Alisha red-eared and tight mouthed. It’s not like it’s immovable; it’s not like Alisha can’t adjust. But she’s never _had_ to adjust for something like this before.

Alisha finds herself trying to think creatively to get to her favorite end results.

“Lisha.” Rose tilts her head back the instant Alisha can finally get her lips over her breast and suck. “A-ah…mm…”

Alisha hums. She feels acutely aware of every little thing, every little change in Rose that signals, _Yes. More. Hurry. That feels good. I like that. Again. Please._

Her fingers drift further south. 

Rose’s thighs, already parted around her sides—when did that happen? Probably in the midst of their kissing and frenzied moving, Alisha realizes—spread wider. Her knees fall open like a welcome invitation. 

“Do we,” Alisha breathes between kisses along Rose’s sternum, “need anything?”

The laugh that skitters out of Rose is shaky and high thanks to Alisha’s fingers of her other hand now tentatively probing her folds. “What, like lube? I mean, if you want, yeah, but I think you’ll find you probably don’t need that for me today.”

Rose is right.

Some part of Alisha has known this, too, from past endeavors: Rose is quick and easy to get wet, and Alisha has always _adored_ this about her. It’s always been flattering. Now, Alisha can slip a finger inside gently and easily. The slide is smooth, met with little resistance.

Rose’s head falls back. 

Alisha grins. “Are you ready?”

Rose nods, breath caught at the same time that Alisha reaches down to guide the strap-on against her entrance. With near-methodical care, trying to make sure she does this right, she holds apart Rose’s folds. She’s so slippery, now, and Alisha fights a smile at the sight and feel of Rose’s excitement. It makes it a tad bit difficult to aim, so she keeps her fingers inside, scissoring wide like a marker as she does her best to guide the toy home.

Rose cracks a teasing smile; for a split-second, Alisha is afraid that she’ll reach down to help—but then, at last, she is successful. The solid, round end pushes against Rose, into her.

The sound Rose makes as it pops inside sends a shudder down Alisha’s back.

_Ah._

The dildo is thick and unyielding. It makes the going rather slow. Alisha pauses after every inch, afraid that she can’t feel the clench of Rose’s muscles. She can’t feel if it hurts or not. Rose is no help, either, only tossing her head and gasping as it presses inside and spears her apart. Her chest rises and falls and rises and falls. After a moment, her hand flutters to Alisha’s shoulder. 

Alisha freezes. “Am I moving too fast?”

“N-no. No…” Rose swallows with a breathy smile. Her legs lift up and spread wide, giving more room for Alisha to push. “You’re doing great. Keep going.” 

The deeper Alisha goes, the more Rose’s back arches. Alisha watches it all, curious. Her eyes light upon the bend of her girlfriend’s form, wondering how deeply Rose can feel it, if she can feel the reach of it inside her at all. Is that a good thing if she can?

“It’s almost—”

“—y-yeah—”

When Alisha’s hips bump against Rose’s, Rose quietly groans. All the way in; she’s all the way in. Alisha Diphda is _inside_ her, and that’s different. Regardless that it’s an artificial appendage, Rose stares at the ceiling, swallowing for as much air as she can get in her lungs, and Alisha stares raptly, mystified. She hasn’t even begun moving; already, Rose is reacting so sensitively. 

_Just how badly has she been wanting this?_

Slowly, Alisha lowers herself until their breasts press round against each other. Rose groans again.

Sharply, Alisha freezes. “Are you all—”

“—it’s fine. It’s fine.” Rose soothes and shakes her head. She runs shaking hands up Alisha’s back, fingernails gently tracing lightning along her scarred skin. Alisha smiles. It’s unintentional how her golden hair acts as a rippling curtain falling around Rose’s head, hiding them both from the world. 

“It’s good, actually,” Rose hums.

“Is it?”

“Yeah.” Rose nods. She meets eyes with Alisha again and lifts her hands to cradle Alisha’s face. “It’s perfect. But you know what’d make it better?”

Alisha grins. She turns her head and pinches the padded skin at the end of Rose’s thumb between her teeth. Rose makes a small sound that sets Alisha’s nerves on fire. “I think I know what you’re about to say, Rose,” Alisha hums. 

“Yeah? And what am I gonna say?”

Alisha sets her weight on her elbows and knees. She drags her hips back so that Rose can feel the length of that cock slowly pulling out of her. Her lips hover above Rose’s. “It’d be better if I started fucking you already, right?”

Rose opens her mouth to answer, a slightly scandalized yet humored look crossing her face—as there always is whenever Alisha attempts to use more coarse, bedroom-appropriate language—but then it’s broken by a rugged, deep-throated moan as Alisha snaps her hips forward. 

“A-ahh—y-yeah. You got me. Took the words right out of my mouth.” Rose’s breath turns shaky and lurchy when Alisha does the same thing a second later, punctuating her body with another sharp, firm thrust.

It earns her another pleasant: “Ah! Hng!” 

A whine in Rose’s throat starts high as she tilts her head back. Alisha sets her lips against her throat and rolls her hips again and again, pushing her body flush against Rose’s so she can feel everything. Every shove and toss of Rose’s body under the force of her movements. Every minute twitch and gasp before it can escape Rose’s throat.

It’s a little bit like spear-wielding, Alisha thinks as she thrusts again and again. She’s using her core muscles to shift her weight and throw it forward—not unlike particular training drills. The work is all muscle memory. 

“You’re—o-oh…” Rose loses track of what she was going to say, making a funny sound deep in her throat. Her face whites out for a blissful second, which Alisha takes that to mean something good. Perhaps the toy is right where it needs to be. “You’re…good at this already. If I can’t talk, then you’re doing a good…good—s-shit! Yeah, Lisha…right…right there…o-oh—” 

Alisha digs her elbows into the mattress, sets her weight on her knees, and throws her hips in earnest. Her errant hair bounces along the sides of Rose’s face.

Rose opens her mouth.

“I—” 

What was that Rose just said? If she can’t speak, Alisha’s doing it right?

Time to test that theory.

Alisha throws caution to the wind and begins thrusting _hard—_ curving her back and curling her shoulders to put more of herself into it—and immediately, wondrously, amazingly, Rose makes a sound not unlike a _scream._ It bounces up against the walls, louder than the creaking mattress beneath them. Her knees hike up; her face contorts in pure ecstasy. 

Incredible. 

Alisha wants to see and hear it again.

She continues the fast, ruthless pace, and Rose’s words devolve. There’s less coherency in her mumblings and conversely, more nonsense that garbles into sudden gasps and cries and whipped moans with every hard shove of Alisha’s body.

“A-ah— _ah!”_ Rose’s voice twists and turns into a higher pitch. She’s keening, now; her face flushed. Red spreads from her cheeks all the way down to her collar. She has an adorable pinch to her brows, screwing together as her mouth bounces open. Her back arches. Every thrust drives her into the mattress, deeper into the pillows. 

And Alisha…Alisha has never seen anything like that on Rose’s face before.

So completely uncontrolled, unmoderated.

It stirs something in her gut. Something that almost reminds her of what hunger feels like, stoked to a flame.

Alisha lowers her lips to Rose’s jaw. 

Rose is beyond words, gasping and jerking. She drags her fingernails over Alisha’s back, jagged, as messy kisses are pressed against her skin. Alisha can taste the heat radiating from Rose. She knows it’ll be soon.

“Ah— _ah—ah!_ L-Lisha—” Rose whimpers. “T-touch me. Touch me!” 

Alisha flexes and lifts her head. By the _seraphim,_ does Rose look debauched. If Alisha has never known what that word _looked_ like before, she does now. 

She slips a hand between their bodies, and skirts down Rose’s stomach—her nerves jump at Alisha’s skimming touch—and she rubs above where the cock is plunging into Rose over and over again. Her fingers press tiny, aggressive circles, hurried figure-eights—and then—and then— 

On the tail end of another harsh thrust, Rose tosses her head back and screams.

She shudders.

Alisha recognizes the look of that particular bend of Rose’s brows paired with the slackness in her mouth, and she turns her movements gentle. She presses softer kisses up the exposed underside of Rose’s jaw, moving languidly until she stops and forgets to move at all because Rose has grabbed the back of her head with both hands and pulled her up into a kiss. 

Alisha gasps between their lips. She tilts her head. 

Every motion now is sinuous and slow. They move against one another in calming, soothing waves. Alisha thinks she can feel her heartbeat in her ears as she lays herself flat against Rose and slips her tongue inside her mouth. Rose makes a sound that might have been something like her name.

When Alisha finally leans back, she lifts a shaky hand to brush aside her errant bangs. “How was that? How do you feel? Was that…?” 

“That was _incredible,_ Lisha.” Rose gasps. Her eyes are still shut; her breathing heavy and labored. Alisha enjoys watching the way her breasts move with it. “That was really, really, good.”

“Was it?” Relief and joy are fireworks colliding in the back of Alisha’s mind.

Rose nods. “You, uh…you remember what you said about being worried whenever I’m on the receiving end, because I could still talk and make jokes?”

“Yes.”

“If your goal was shutting me up…” Rose pauses as the words are halfway out of her mouth. Her face scrunches up—adorably—her nose twisting over her lips. Then, finally she opens her eyes. “Well, I wouldn’t say you got me quiet, but uh, you definitely got me to stop thinking there for a bit. What was that word you used? Co…cohesive?” 

Alisha can’t stop the smile that spreads over her face. “Coherent?” 

“Yeah. That.” Rose tosses a hand up and lets it fall back against a pillow. The limp noodle spread of her body has Alisha grinning even wider, humming with satisfaction. 

“I think I lost that somewhere in all the uh…the…”

“In all the fucking?”

Rose’s face bursts red. She groans and covers her face with a hand. “Oh, stop,” she says, drawing out the words into a whine. “You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?" 

_Oh, definitely._ “Doing what?”

“That whole—” Rose scoffs in the back of her throat and waves at her for a second time in as many minutes. “—‘little miss princess’ who doesn’t ever use dirty language only uses it in bed and succeeds in turning on her defenseless girlfriend who is still _severely affected_ by hearing the word ‘fuck’ come out of her mouth. You’re going to make me want a round two, you know.”

Alisha hums and kisses Rose again. She makes sure Rose can feel the shape of her smile in the press of their lips. “And that would be undesirable because…?” 

Rose stops hiding her eyes. Finally, blue meets green. 

_“Do_ you want to go again, Rose?” Alisha asks.

There’s something like incredulousness that passes over Rose’s face. Alisha thinks she can spy a flicker of awed hope, too, in the depths of her blues. “W-wait, really?” she asks. “But how do _you_ feel? Are you tired? I mean, this is a lot of work. And your hips—”

“—my hips are fine.” Alisha tries not to laugh. “It’s a good workout.”

“Of course. Of _course_ you’re thinking of it like a workout.”

“You know I take pride in knowing how to fight.” As much as she can, Alisha trains to keep physically ready for when Hyland may need her to defend her again. “And if all of my practice wielding my spear has readied me to also pleasure you, then I say all the better.”

There’s a beat.

Alisha doesn’t know why until all of a sudden, Rose’s mouth curls. Her voice turns nasally and guttural with amusement. “Practice wielding your spear, huh?”

Alisha barely gets the chance to roll her eyes. 

With a sudden jerk of her weight, Rose musically laughs and then _moves._

She tosses her body, pinning Alisha between her knees and shoving them around, and Alisha isn’t even sure how the shift happens until it _has_ happened. She finds herself staring at the ceiling of her own bedchamber, dazed and breathless and so, so—

She looks at Rose’s face. 

Alisha grabs at her elbows first. Her heart skips a beat. “Oh! Are you all right?”

“Y-yeah.” Rose laughs again—the kind of laugh that immediately soothes all of Alisha’s worries. It’s familiar, and soothing somehow in that familiarity, if only it wasn’t crowned by the soft pinch of her brows and the slight pallor in her cheeks. Alisha opens her mouth to argue that no, Rose clearly _isn’t_ all right, before her face finally smooths out. “Probably shouldn’t have done that, but it’s fine. It’ll be fine, anyway.”

For a moment, Alisha’s mind spins with the worst of possibilities. “A-are you sure? What if I hurt you—”

“—ha!” Rose belts out a laugh and tilts her head back. That particular move, arching her spine, also makes her shudder. “Well, as they say, ‘no pain no gain,’ princess.” But she must see the worried bend to Alisha’s mouth because she quickly adds, “Not that you could hurt me even if you tried.”

“B-but—”

“Listen, Lisha.” Rose bends down, bends low, and frames Alisha’s cheeks between her palms. Her thumbs rub over the skin below her eyes. “It’s like I said before: you gotta cut yourself some slack. This is the first time we’re using a strap-on like this, so it’s going to come with some bumps along the way.” She pauses. “Uh, both figuratively and literally, haha.”

Alisha frowns.

“But I just mean that to say, it’s okay. It’s okay that we’re figuring this out together. It’s okay that I make a mistake or two.”

There’s a pause—a brief hold on the air, suspended between them. Then, tightly, Alisha murmurs, “But I wanted this to be perfect for you—”

“—and it is, Lisha.”

Sometimes, and this is only when Rose wants her to be absolutely breathless with adoration, but sometimes Rose says her name like it is the equivalent of _my love._

The corner of Rose’s lips slant upward. “What, did you think a little bit of pain was going to make sex with you any less than amazing? Besides, who knows? Maybe I _want_ it to hurt now and then.” 

Could that be possible? Wanting pain? 

“Anyway, don’t sweat it. What happened just now was totally my fault and that’s only because I was horny and wanted to go again.”

Alisha allows herself to smile. Her eyes trail down, appreciating the view of Rose’s bare body curved over her, and obscenely, the way she can see the wide part of her folds around the dildo further down. There’s a telling, glimmering shine at its base. Rose is even wetter than before and the sight of it nearly makes Alisha groan. 

_This is kind of a surprising new turn-on._

Rose’s breasts shake as she laughs. That, too, adds to something all too dangerously wonderful that Alisha doesn’t know how to articulate yet other than _good_. “Like what you see, Lisha?” 

Alisha drags her eyes back up to Rose’s blues. She nods. “Yes. Yes, I very much think so.” 

And with that, she rolls her hips upward.

Rose’s eyes flutter. She makes a small, soft sound and then drops a hand onto Alisha’s shoulder and squeezes. “W-wait, let me…”

Then, she shifts her legs. Pulls them forward so that her knees frame the dip of Alisha’s sides. She tells Alisha to lift her knees and when she does, Rose _groans._ She leans forward, elbows on either side of Alisha’s shoulders. Her lips are so very close—so very kissable. 

Wordlessly, Alisha threads her fingers into the fire of Rose’s hair.

“Lisha—”

And she drags her down to determine for herself just how kissable they are.

This time, Rose groans against her. Loudly. Her lips part and move in a cyclical rhythm that Alisha shifts her hips to follow. She’s grateful for the note about propping up her knees; it makes thrusting upward that much easier. 

“O-oh _damn,”_ Rose gasps at the tail end of a particularly rough shove inside her. “Ah…ah ha ha…” Her shoulders shake with laughter.

Alisha raises a brow. “Something funny?”

Rose shakes her head. “Just—” Her breath hitches; her back arches after what must have been another good thrust. “Ha— _ahhh_ —I was going to say—I’m real damn lucky you’re such a good spear-wielder.”

“Oh _stop.”_

Something like a high-pitched squeal that Alisha thinks is supposed to be a whine but honestly, she has _never heard before_ slips out from Rose’s throat. “Wait, noooo! Don’t do that! Don’t stop moving! Lisha!”

Well, now.

Alisha didn’t anticipate that to be _quite_ so arousing.

“Are you going to make more innuendos like that?” 

“P-possibly.” Rose snickers and pants. Eyes fluttering closed, she desperately starts lifting herself up and down and up and down. The urgency of that undulation—the drive behind it—shoving herself down, penetrating herself on the toy—and, by extension, providing that constant view of her ass lifting and dropping again and again over Alisha is—is—

_It’s something I could get used to._

Alisha’s hands, without thinking about it, skim down Rose’s back. They take two handfuls of Rose’s ass and squeeze.

Rose jolts and whines.

“O-oh god, Lisha.” Shivers dart up and down her frame. Her breath turns funny and thin. “That’s going to make me come so fast.” 

“Good.” 

Two wonderful things happen in incredible succession: Alisha thrusts up hard, and Rose drops her face into Alisha’s shoulder and screams again.

“Oh, _Rose…”_ Alisha breathes, quiet and odd, as she moves her hips faster. She turns her head to Rose’s ear. “Rose, my love, if you could only see yourself now.” She kisses the side of her face. 

Alisha thrusts up with a need that she didn’t know she could feel inside of herself, meeting each of Rose’s furtive movements. Half of her is worried at the strength she has, the power that she both can and is throwing behind her hips—by the seraphim, she is never going to look at her exercise routines that mimic this movement the same ever again. Is she practically bouncing Rose on her lap? She must be. And she is so cruelly holding her in place, too, pulling her into each thrust by her grasp on Rose’s ass—

Or at least, Alisha would be more concerned that it might be painful, if it wasn’t for Rose making the most heavenly, most broken and tortured of noises straight into her ear. If it wasn’t for the way her fingers dig into the pillowcase behind Alisha’s head. If it wasn’t for the grind of her hips forward to stimulate her clit against Alisha’s lower gut.

“Lisha, Lisha, Lisha, Lisha,” Rose whimpers in time with the rough bang of Alisha’s headboard against the wall. The mattress underneath them squeaks in time with their thrusts. “I’m—oh _god—_ I’m gonna—” Her voice pitches higher with a keen. “I’m gonna—!”

And then she freezes and gasps.

Rose was right: that didn’t take long at all in this position.

Alisha finds she likes this position a rather lot, actually.

It’s a high, strangled, and tender sound Rose makes, too. Alisha can feel Rose’s lips moving against the side of her face, wordlessly trying to function as she trembles. Her thighs squeeze, knees digging into Alisha’s sides. 

“That’s it, Rose,” Alisha sighs and lifts her hands to rub along Rose’s back. She can feel the little aftermath, the quakes in her nerves that are all along her spine. Tiny twitches, webbing like lightning sparks, dancing across her skin. The tips of her fingernails drift gently, idly, in formless patterns. “That’s it. Oh, you are so _lovely,_ and sometimes you don’t even _know…”_

It takes another minute for Rose to regain her words. 

When she does, she quietly chuckles. 

She lifts her head and her red hair is now thoroughly mussed. It falls around her face haphazardly, sticking in odd directions. Some of her bangs are matted to her brow with sweat. A loose strand sticks to her cheek. She has a cowlick by her ear; does Rose know that?

Alisha doesn’t get the chance to ask.

The tenderness in Rose’s gaze fills her world and then suddenly, her lips are being stolen with syrupy sweet affection. Alisha tilts her head into it. She opens her mouth. When Rose’s tongue slips inside, Alisha sighs.

Rose climbs off of her. The careful drag of the toy out from her glistening folds should not be as fascinating as it is to Alisha. But then Rose is beside her, and her fingers are on the straps and trying to tug at the lacing at the small of Alisha’s back. Alisha has little time to think about such an image. She rises to her knees and turns around.

When at last the toy is off, Alisha breathes a sigh of relief. Her skin feels almost sticky with perspirant where the strap-on had sat. She leans against the headboard. 

Rose kisses her cheek and smiles, cuddling close. “Do you want to try it?”

Alisha turns. Rose is close enough to kiss—so she does—but only a little, chaste peck. “Try what.”

“Try getting dicked, of course.”

Alisha’s face colors deeply and after a second too long of a pause, Rose backpedals. She shakes her head and waves a hand, grabbing the strap-on with her other. She throws her legs over the far side of the bed. “Never mind! Sorry. Why’d I even say it like that? Haha! Uh. No, yeah. I remember how hesitant and uncertain you were about this thing, anyway, so let’s just forget what I—” 

“Rose. Wait.”

Alisha reaches out over the sheets and touches Rose’s back. 

Rose stops and doesn’t move.

“I think…I think I’d like to, actually,” Alisha confesses into the quiet. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Really?” Rose doesn’t turn around. Her voice sounds a little disbelieving.

Alisha smiles. Her fingers drift down to the small of Rose’s back—a message of soft reassurance. “I must confess that I do find myself curious. You seemed to enjoy yourself so much, and maybe some part of myself just…wants to know what it’s like. Perhaps I want to see if I can understand the appeal for myself. Would…would that be alright?” 

In answer, Rose spins around suddenly, quickly, nearly launching herself over the bed just to kiss Alisha.

Alisha laughs into it. It’s sloppy and uncoordinated, their lips never quite fully meeting. But before Alisha can frame Rose’s face in her hands to get her where she wants her, Rose pulls back and grins widely. “Yes. Yes! Yes. Absolutely, Lisha. You don’t even need to _ask_ if that’s okay, silly.”

And then Alisha is giggling. It’s a little embarrassing, maybe: how flighty her nerves feel, particularly when Rose asks: “You really think I wouldn’t want to fuck you?”

Alisha puts a hand over her face. 

Rose just laughs again and louder. “Okay, okay, okay. Give me a second to clean this, and while I do _that—_ I want you, your highness, to get comfy.” She stands up from the bed, all graceful and roguish in her nudity. “Lay back. Relax. Grab a pillow. Enjoy yourself before I absolutely _rail_ you.” She gives another high, bright, bursting laugh before she spins around. “Damn! Can’t believe I just got to say that to _Alisha Diphda._ What a life—” 

Alisha stares and stares at Rose as she cackles and darts to the bathroom door. She presses a hand to her mouth and wonders if the promising heat licking through her gut is from Rose’s words or something else entirely.

* * *

When Rose returns, she already has the toy strapped to her, wearing it out of the bathroom proudly. Alisha smashes a hand to her mouth to try to hide the snort of her laughter as Rose attempts to pose in a way that one might describe as “sexy” all while the dildo obscenely protrudes out in front of her.

“What do you think? How do I look?”

“Ridiculous,” Alisha answers honestly. 

Rose strides over with a chuckle. Her knees dig into the mattress from either side as she climbs over Alisha. “I know. You’re right, like always. It does look kind of funny when you walk around with it, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

But then Rose pauses and rests her hands on Alisha’s parted knees. Alisha watches as those blue eyes trail over her from the top of her golden head, down to her lips. They drift over her breasts and then lower, very obviously eying the spread of Alisha’s cunt in front of her. Something in Alisha heats up even more. She never knows what to do with her hands when Rose looks down at her like this. She can feel her flush as it crawls down her throat.

“Damn, Lisha,” Rose murmurs. There’s a familiar, low curl to her voice that’s wry and amused and smoky. “If I was a guy, I’d have such a hard-on right now.”

Alisha can’t help but laugh. Perhaps it’s due to the growing giddiness she feels; perhaps it’s something else. That high, bubbly, slightly shaky feeling inside her is vaguely nostalgic, like it was the first time they made love. “Rose, if you were a guy,” she says, “we wouldn’t be _doing_ this right now.” 

Rose chuckles and lets her hands slide down Alisha’s thighs. She leans closer, pushing her palms into the mattress for balance. “Touché.” 

They kiss.

And with it, Alisha knows—not that she had doubted it before, per se, but there had been some (she likes to think healthy) level of caution—that she’ll be all right. 

She has Rose.

Rose, who knows Alisha’s body well enough to recognize by a single touch that this time, they’ll need the lube. Rose, who knows right where said little bottle is in the royal bedchamber. Rose, who presses her cool, slicked fingers against Alisha slowly, gently, and with so much care that Alisha sighs. Rose, who kisses her praises and coos such embarrassing nonsense like, “That’s it, Alisha. Relax for me,” and, “There you go. Think you can take another?” and, “I’ll warn you, this guy’s gonna be the width of, uh, a little less than three fingers. That okay?”

Alisha smiles, breathless. Her legs shake where they are parted, but she nods. She puts a hand against Rose’s cheek. “I said I wanted to see what it’s like. Besides. It’s _you._ How could this not be okay?”

The blue of Rose’s eyes shine wetly. She blinks quickly. “Damn, I love you so much,” she breathes and turns her head to kiss the center of Alisha’s palm.

It takes some readjusting. They slip another pillow under Alisha’s hips. Rose positions herself between Alisha’s thighs. There’s so much leg and hip touching in the process that Alisha feels like she’s on fire; her skin is lighting up all along her lower half. 

Then Rose is pressing inside.

It takes time, getting used to the feeling. It’s different. The thickness inches its way unflinchingly, unwaveringly, inside of her, opening her up. But it’s not _bad._ Alisha tilts her head to the ceiling and breathes in and out through her mouth. A quiet groan escapes as it moves deep. Rose is slow and careful. Her eyes are on Alisha’s face, probably looking for even the slightest sign that there might be discomfort or pain, knowing Rose.

Somehow, remarkably, it doesn’t hurt at all.

But then, is she surprised? When Rose, over and over again, takes such good care of her? 

Rose stops. Her chest heaves with breath—a sight and view that is _definitely_ something positive about this new toy, Alisha thinks. 

“Is it…all the way inside?” she breathes, craning her head up.

Rose nods. “Yeah. You’ll probably feel it more when we actually start moving.”

Alisha nods and drops back onto the bed. She focuses on breathing and not on the thick thing she can feel like a rod inside of her. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Alisha murmurs. Her eyes flutter open and it’s interesting; she hadn’t been aware she had closed them. There’s a familiar itch in her gut; a particular hunger and heat. It grows as the seconds pass on and Rose does nothing. Her thighs squeeze around Rose’s middle. Her breath shakes on the way even that minute movement jostles the toy inside of her. “I think…I think I’m ready.”

Rose’s grin spears across her face a mile wide. “Oh?”

Alisha nods, breathlessly. A little nervously.

“You tell me if it’s too fast or too slow,” Rose murmurs. She shifts her hips back.

Alisha gasps. Her eyes flutter shut again, and she relishes in that drag against her walls. It pulls away, and then presses back in. As it fills her, the heat in her gut turns fuzzy. Hazy. “O-oh…” On the next slow drive inside, she can feel the toy push her apart. She can feel _Rose_ inside her, in a different way than ever before. “Rose…” 

When she looks up, she can see Rose smiling. It must be subconscious, the way her hips begin to move faster in response. There’s a spark in her eyes like stars in the night sky, something infinitely excited. Eager and endless. “Yeah, Lisha?”

For the second time in as many minutes, Alisha nods, slowly, dazedly—this time, to the unasked question.

_Keep going._

So Rose does.

She gets into a rhythm with her thrusts, rapid and but steady, and Alisha finds herself enjoying the pull of it more than the push. Yet when the toy hits inside of her just right, her nerves are set ablaze. More than this, what makes this way of making love particularly worth it, is the view of Rose’s chest as she tirelessly works above her, so focused on evenly throwing her hips forward. Her breasts bounce with every thrust.

Unthinkingly, Alisha reaches up.

And Rose grabs her hands.

Quick as a flash— _ah, yes, using that honed assassin’s reflex—_ Rose pins both of Alisha’s wrists above her head in one of her hands. She stops thrusting. Her mouth curls into a cruel grin that has Alisha panting open-mouthed beneath her, though Rose was the one doing all the work. 

“R-Rose…” A princess does not _whine._ But if Alisha was very close to doing so, she would never admit it.

Rose tsks. “Nuh-uh. You had your turn, Lisha,” she murmurs. With a sinuous roll of her body, she lazily continues fucking. “Twice, in fact. Now it’s mine.”

Somehow, that slow, tortuous movement sets Alisha’s body on fire more than the quick thrusts before. Alisha can feel something bottle up in her throat that she refuses to let go. Her face blooms with warmth and heat. Her gut simmers, pulling tight. “Rose…!” Her hands want to _move;_ they want to _touch._

Rose chuckles and tightens her hold. “I did say I was going to rail you, didn’t I?”

Alisha grits her teeth together. Oh no. She knows what Rose is doing; what she’s trying to do. She’s not going to let her win. She’s not going to let out such a sound. She’s not going to be like _Rose._ She’s—

Rose leans in until their bodies are flush. It changes the angle of the fake cock inside her and Alisha makes a ragged sound, dazedly staring at the ceiling as Rose murmurs into her ear, “Really. After all we’ve discussed and after all you’ve done for me, now _you’re_ going to hold back?” She nips at Alisha’s ear and a shiver passes through the princess. “C’mon, Lisha. Why don’t you let it out? Let everybody here in the mansion know how good I’m making you feel, huh?”

Alisha’s next exhale is harsh and shaky. 

“It’d be incredibly flattering if you did,” Rose continues.

Alisha flushes a deep, deep red all along her cheeks and up to her ears and down to her clavicle. She turns her head and their noses align together as she whispers, “Then make me.”

Rose loses all abandon. She snaps her hips. Hard and brutal and unforgiving. 

Alisha tosses her head back.

Delightedly, she _screams._

* * *

Alisha loses herself somewhere in the rapid toss and roll of their bodies, as Rose pushes her down into the mattress and pistons her hips relentlessly. With her hands restrained, Alisha can only gasp for reprieve and release; babble and beg endlessly for a touch, mercy, anything. 

When Rose finally drops down her fingers to touch her, it doesn’t take long.

She squeezes her face up tight. Her mouth drops open into an ‘’oh,” as the pleasure hits her, rolling through her in pounding waves. It whites out her mind, leaves her shaking and trembling.

Rose, in its aftermath, kisses her nose first. She kisses the flush under her eyes and the curve of her cheeks. She frames Alisha’s face with one hand and saves her lips for last, like they’re her favorite part of Alisha, and Alisha, when she can feel her nerve endings again, smiles into it. She feels as loose and malleable as clay. 

“So? What’s the verdict?” Rose murmurs. “Good enough to do again sometime? Or not your kind of thing after all?”

A little dazedly, Alisha reaches up a hand to toy with an errant lock of Rose’s hair; she twirls it around her finger. “I think the jury says that this ‘different experience’ of yours is one she would not be opposed to doing again sometime.” 

“Really?”

“Really.” Alisha nods. With a deep breath, she lets her arm drop back and hides her face in the crook of her elbow. “Perhaps after I can walk again, however.”

Rose’s laughter, excited and happy, bounces to fill every space of the bedchamber. “Yeah, alright. I think I can wait until then.”

**Author's Note:**

> <3 <3 <3 <3 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST, SHANIN <3 <3 <3 <3 I'm continually honored to write Rosali for you, man, and I don't think I say enough how much of an honor it is. ;A; The BIGGEST honor. Gives me so much joy. This particular idea?? Genius. I was so excited to explore it, thank you SO much. <3 <3 <3 <3 
> 
> To anyone else who reads this, thanks for reading, too. <3 <3 Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> [tw](https://twitter.com/kissykrissey) / [tblr](https://krisseycrystal.tumblr.com/)


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